Truth or Dare
by Xephia
Summary: Seeing Wes strip to his underwear and sing Britney Spears' 'Toxic' had terrified Kurt out of picking dare in the past; but he was starting to get bored of playing it safe. Blaine/Kurt/Karofsky
1. Chapter 1

_Karfskys in hospital._

Kurt was sitting in the common room when he got the text from Finn. He wasn't too sure how he was supposed to react.

Did Finn expect him to feel glad? Had Finn _put _Karofsky hospital? Did they – them being New Directions - expect Kurt to come back? How long was Karofsky in hospital for? Was there some kind of underlying message to this text? Did Finn expect him to be _happy _about it?

_Was _he happy about it?

Kurt didn't know how he felt. He wanted to ask Finn _why_ Karofsky was in hospital, and why he had told him, but he didn't want to sound like he cared. Because he didn't, not really - but there was still some kind of deep, nagging feeling that reminded him of the pain he had seen in Karofsky's eyes. He thought of the nights he had lain awake in bed, wondering how Karofsky felt, what his motives were, how he needed help. He didn't care about Karofsky, not in the slightest, but there was always the guilt that he was the only one who knew what Karofsky was going through, but couldn't help him. He knew what the worst case scenario for Karofsky was. And if it happened, Kurt was scared that he would blame himself.

But he shrugged that thought off. It was too unlikely – Karofsky was probably just getting his tonsils out, and Finn probably just thought Kurt might get some pleasure out of knowing.

"Put your phone down," Wes said, leaning over the table and grinning. "Blaine asked you a question."

Blaine tapped the neck of the bottle that was pointing directly at Kurt and raised an eyebrow. "Truth or dare?"

* * *

"I can't believe you're doing this," Blaine said quietly. The engine of his car was still running, as though Blaine thought he could talk Kurt out of it. Kurt looked out of the dark tinted window and up at the expansive hospital building. The last time he had been here had been to visit his dad.

"Neither can I," he muttered, but as Blaine shut off the engine he got out of the car anyway. Much to Kurt's surprise, Blaine followed him.

"I'm coming with you," said Blaine as he put his school jacket back on, and when Kurt started to protest, interrupted. "I won't come into the room, because he'd hate that, but I'll stand outside. Sure, he might not be able to move, but I'm not taking any chances." Blaine didn't look Kurt in the eye as he spoke, but dug his hands into his pockets and looked up at the windows. Kurt knew how unhappy Blaine was about this whole situation. He wasn't particularly happy about it himself.

It took them a while to find the room – it wasn't anywhere near where Burt had been staying – but they found it eventually. They stood outside for a minute before Kurt readied himself with a long, deep breath.

"Are you sure about this?" Blaine asked, resting a hand on his shoulder.

"Positive," Kurt replied briskly, trying to mask his fear. "He doesn't have anyone. I just... need to talk to him for a minute." He swallowed. Blaine nodded and opened the door.

Karofsky lay on the hospital bed with his eyes shut, taped to a drip. There wasn't any bruising on his face, but his foot was raised above the bed in a cast, and Kurt knew the blanket covered the broken ribs. He looked peaceful. He must have been asleep.

Kurt cast a glance back towards the door, but it was shut. He knew Blaine was on the other side waiting for him, and that reassured him enough to take a few steps closer until he was standing directly next to Karofsky.

"Why did you do it?" he whispered down at him, his voice barely audible. He was surprised at how relaxed Karofsky looked. His jaw wasn't tight, his eyebrows weren't pinched; he looked like a completely different person. And he had lost a lot of weight – so much weight that it made Kurt feel a little ill.

Kurt walked around to the window and pulled up the visitor's chair. There were two magazines on the bedside table, but they looked untouched. Kurt couldn't decide whether this was because no one had visited, or because whoever had hadn't been interested in cars.

"You're an idiot," Kurt continued, talking blindly at the covers of the magazines. "An absolute oaf, you know that? That day when I came to you with Blaine, I wanted to _talk _you. I wanted to offer my support. I wanted you to know that you could come to me for help.

"I still don't know what you wanted from me, whether you – whether you _stalked_ me because you _liked me_-" and here Kurt laughed dryly and tugged at his designer scarf "- because you were jealous, because hated me, or all of the above. I didn't, _I don't,_ understand you at all. But nothing has ever scared me as much as you did. You scared me so much that I took my parents money and ran away. Something I swore I'd never do.

"I was too scared to stay and try and help. Even sitting here, right now, I'm scared you're going to wake up and strangle me or do something else ridiculously and inexplicably vindictive. This is your problem, Karofsky. If you hadn't driven people away, if you had let me help you, this wouldn't have happened!"

Kurt suddenly felt surprisingly angry. "You should have told someone! You didn't have to talk to me about it – you could have called the Trevor project, found friends online or spoken to your family. You should have stopped with the self pity and done something to _help yourself!_"

But Kurt knew he was a hypocrite. He hadn't told anyone about Karofsky and the way he bullied him. He had _let _it happen, let it drag him down, thinking he could handle it all by himself, thinking he was being _brave_. If Mr. Schue hadn't noticed, if he hadn't helped Kurt, who knew where Kurt might be now?

"Maybe I could have told someone," Kurt said quietly. "Maybe we could have found you someone to talk to. But I'm not going to let myself feel guilty for this, Karofsky. I feel terrible that you're in here, and want to help you. But I'm not going to blame myself. I don't owe you anything."

Kurt stood up and looked down at Karofsky. Karofsky's hair was a little longer than Kurt remembered it. But thinking back, Kurt couldn't actually remember what it used to look like, even though only a couple of months had passed. He had no idea what color eyes Karofsky had, or what he looked like when he smiled.

He didn't know this person. Why was he even here?

He flicked open the magazine, to show that someone had been there, and then left as quietly as he had come.

* * *

"Dare," Kurt said, finally finding the courage. It was Friday night again – Truth or Dare night for any Warblers who were stuck in the dorms for the evening. All night he had been picking truth, and Blaine and his friends - being the sweeties that they were - hadn't probed too deep. Seeing Wes strip to his underwear and sing Britney Spears' _Toxic _had terrified Kurt out of picking dare in the past; but he was getting bored of playing it safe.

"Ooooh," said a couple of the boys in unison. Blaine let out a low whistle.

"Taking a dare from Randy!" Thad exclaimed. "He's a brave one."

"Let's face it," said David. "We all know what this dare is going to be."

"What do you mean?" Kurt asked quickly, looking around. Had they been planning something from the beginning? But a couple of the guys were looking just as confused as Kurt, which made him feel a bit better. Blaine was looking at Randy with narrowed eyes.

Randy was grinning like a maniac, and held up a hand to hush everyone. He waited until everyone was quiet, leaning forward in anticipation, before speaking.

"Kurt, I dare you kiss _Blaine_." And suddenly the circle of boys erupted, some cheering, others laughing, until David started a chant of 'kiss, kiss, kiss' which everyone but Blaine and Kurt picked up.

They were all sitting in a circle on the common room floor by the fireplace, on their knees or with their legs crossed, some perched on pillows, others leaning on each other. Blaine was not quite opposite Kurt.

A naked Britney Spears A cappella suddenly didn't seem like such a bad idea.

Blaine was laughing and shaking his head, but he looked just as terrified as Kurt felt. "No way," he mouthed at Randy, and then at Kurt, "You totally don't have to do this."

"Screw that," said Randy. "Why should he get off on dares just because he's small and cute? He's not the terrified new kid anymore. You coddle him too much, Blaine." Someone cheered. Everyone was grinning now.

The 'kiss' chant, kept up by David and Stacy, turned into a low hiss - a background, almost musical sound. Someone pushed Kurt in the back, and when all he said was "Um," they gave him another shove so that he had to shuffle forward towards Blaine.

"Really," said Blaine above all the noise, "you shouldn't let asses like these guys make you kiss someone just for a game."

"As if you haven't made out with half of us for dares," David scoffed.

"A kiss is something special," Blaine pressed, looking at Kurt seriously. Kurt knew he was only saying this because Kurt hadn't exactly had many kisses before. Kurt knew Blaine had a long history of ex boyfriends and unmeaningful kisses, but he also knew that Blaine was well aware that a kiss meant more to Kurt than it did to him. "Don't waste it on someone you don't really like," Blaine continued, ignoring Stacy's attempt to push him towards Kurt.

Kurt's heart was pummeling away in his chest, and he knew he couldn't keep the fear off his face. But he arranged it into his best 'are you an idiot?' expression and said, somewhat high pitched as he made up his mind, "Are you really that blind?"

The moment his lips touched Blaine's and his hand cupped Blaine's ear the shouts and wolf whistling started, but Kurt barely heard it. The only thing in his world at that moment were Blaine's lips, and the image of Blaine's wide-eyed understanding before Kurt had leaned in for the kiss, that would be etched into his memory forever.

And the feeling of Blaine kissing him _back_, of his fingers resting on Kurt's waist and his other hand reaching up to brush Kurt's wrist, trailing from there up past the nape of his neck and into his perfectly styled hair.

_This_ was his first kiss. And it was amazing.

* * *

"He's asleep," the nurse had said kindly, but had let him in anyway. Kurt hovered over Karofsky's bed again. He wasn't sure why he was here. He hadn't told Blaine he was coming this time. The magazines were gone, and had been replaced by a vase of drooping flowers.

"Why are you asleep?" Kurt muttered, turning the vase around so that the other side of the carnations could get more light. "It's the middle of the day." But secretly he was glad; he still wasn't sure if he could handle talking to Karofsky's face.

"I heard you're getting out in a few days," he said, looking out the window. "I guess that's why I'm here." Kurt sighed heavily. "Why I'll come back tomorrow too, and the next day if you aren't awake then.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm not doing this for you. My reasons for coming here are _completely_ selfish. I don't want you to leave here without hearing what I have to say. I don't want to be sitting in class wondering how you are, whether or not you're going to do this to yourself again, and whether or not I could have done anything to prevent it. This is the only chance I have to talk to you without having to be afraid.

"And I need to understand you. I don't think I can ever stop being afraid until I do. Because I know you're not _that kid_, Karofsky. I know you're not insane, or the kind of kid who is just so messed up that they'll end up in jail the moment they get out of school. I could see it in your face. The fear, the confusion, the anger. You had good grades. Things were going great until you started bullying me.

"It's so obvious now." Kurt laughed dryly. 'You found out you were gay, and you were taking that anger out on me. You blamed me, because I was _everything you hated in yourself_."

"That's not it, you idiot," said a rough voice behind him. Kurt went stock still, unable to breathe or turn around.

"How long have you been awake?" Kurt whispered eventually, finding his voice.

Karofsky sighed behind him. "Since you came in," he said, sounding tired. "I was awake the other day too."

There was stretch of silence during which Kurt couldn't think, couldn't even _find _his thoughts. Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he turned around. When he opened them again, Karofsky was looking at him. His eyes were brown.

Kurt shook his head and opened his mouth, and gaped dumbly for a second before finally and quickly asking, "_Why did you do it_?"

Karofsky looked away, at the ceiling. He didn't say anything for a couple of seconds and his face was completely unreadable.

"I wanted to get closer to you," he said at last. His voice was quiet and steady. "Yeah. Yeah, sure, I was scared. I was scared of what people would think, of what they would say. But most of all, I was scared of _you. _Not because you could beat me up – you're not even half my size. But because there was no way you could actually – I mean, look at me! I'm the guy who has been giving you and your friends shit for years." He laughed humorlessly at the ceiling. "If I told people, if people found out, I wouldn't be like you. It wouldn't be that easy. You have your friends, your singing club or whatever. But those kind of people hate me. And the people who like me? They hate fags. I was pretty much fucked."

Kurt was more shocked that Karofsky was so easily admitting these things – to Kurt, no less! - than about what he was actually saying. He made to interrupt, but Karofsky kept talking.

"But I still needed to be close to you. I don't know why, okay? But I needed to see your face every day. I needed you to look at me. I needed to be a part of your life. And that was the only way to do it. And you know what? It fucking sucked. But it was better than being alone." He was silent for a moment, perhaps waiting for Kurt to say something, but Kurt suddenly couldn't find anything to say – it was like someone had come in and painted over all his neatly organized thoughts.

"So yeah, that's why I did it," Karofsky finished somewhat lamely, looking back towards the door and away from Kurt so that Kurt could barely see his face.

"That wasn't what I meant," Kurt said eventually, his expression pained. "_Why _did you take those pills, Karofsky? Why did you throw yourself down those stairs?"

"Because when you left, I had nothing," said Karofsky simply.

It was an awkward moment. Kurt didn't know how to take the confession. From anyone else, in any other situation, it would be flattering. From Karofsky, right now, it was terrifying – sickening. Even though Kurt knew it wasn't his fault, he felt guilty. Of course, he had passed it over as a likely possibility, but hearing it from Karofsky was different.

Kurt pulled up the chair and sat down, facing towards the foot of the bed, with his knees pulled up to his chest.

"We need to talk about how I can help you," he said carefully.

"I don't need your help, Hummel."

"It's all I can offer."

"What can you _do_?" Karofsky asked gruffly.

Kurt turned and looked at him, really looked at him. He held Karofsky's gaze and found that it took more courage to say the following words than it had to kiss Blaine the previous night.

"I can be your friend."

* * *

**Author's Note: **I'm not really sure what to say, except that if you didn't absolutely hate it, please let me know and motivate me to write the next chapter!

Edit: When you read without reviewing, I know, and it makes me sad. Maybe not as sad as Karofsky, but pretty sad. So leave me a review and make my day, okay?

Reviewers are amazing. Not quite as amazing as Kurt, but pretty darn amazing c:


	2. Chapter 2

"Where were you today?"

"What? Oh, I went to see a friend."

"Uh, no you didn't," said Finn adamantly, following Kurt as he brushed past him and headed for the hallway. "Blaine called looking for you."

Kurt had started coming home most weekends, to spend more time with his dad. Dalton was only a forty minute drive from home, so when Finn had suggested the idea, telling Kurt how much Burt missed him but wouldn't say, he couldn't really say no.

"I have friends outside of Blaine, Finn."

"If you were seeing a Dalton friend, Blaine would have known, and you weren't seeing any of New Directions. Are you-"

"Just because you grew up with your strict cliques and social circles doesn't mean the rest of us have to conform to that," said Kurt over his shoulder. "Neither Blaine, nor Wes, _nor _David are in my French class. Unlike you, I don't have anything against making friends outside of my social clubs."

"I don't have anything against-"

"Do you have _any _friends outside of New Directions and football?" Kurt dropped his school bag by his bedroom door and turned to face Finn with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, no-"

"My point exactly." Kurt opened his bedroom door, anxious to get away from Finn and the lies he was telling him, but the weight of Finn's hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Sorry," said Finn, "you're right, I shouldn't have accused you like that. It's just that I wanted to surprise you, to take you to Breadstix today to have lunch with New Directions. I had to cancel because you weren't here. Everyone was really disappointed."

Kurt felt a sinking, guilty feeling in his stomach, but didn't felt it show on his face. "That's not my fault. You should have run it passed me first. Or at least asked if I had any plans this weekend."

"Yeah, you're right," said Finn, and then rushed, "So, how about tomorrow? Some of the guys are working... Artie recently got a part time job answering phones or something... but most of us can make it."

"I can't," said Kurt. "I have a date with Blaine... we're doing a Disney Classics marathon. You know, when Disney was all about music and romance, with _subtle_ comedic relief? The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Beauty and the Beast, The Little -" Kurt caught himself quickly. "But I'd really love to see everyone again. Just give me more notice next time, okay?"

And before Finn could reply, Kurt slipped into his room and shut the door.

* * *

Wes was out for the night. It was the first time Kurt and Blaine had been alone together in Blaine's room – for more than a few minutes, anyway. It was distinctly obvious which side of the room belonged to whom; above Wes' bed was a poster of some local Hockey team, and several photos of a pretty blond girl were tacked to his pin board. Above Blaine's? A Sweeny Todd poster, music sheets and scribbled song lyrics taped to the walls, and on his pin board, half a dozen magazine tear-outs of male celebrities including, but not limited to, Johnny Depp, Daniel Radcliffe and a young _Titanic _Leonardo DiCaprio.

Blaine was lying on his stomach on his bed, his bare feet on his pillows, typing away at the keyboard of his laptop when Kurt came in. The sight put Kurt's stomach into a series of backflips. Blaine's face lit up when he noticed Kurt standing in the doorway, and he shuffled over on the bed.

"Hey," he said, motioning for Kurt to come closer. "I'm glad you're late, actually. Beauty and the Beast hasn't finished downloading yet."

Kurt approached somewhat tentatively and sat down on the bed as far away from Blaine as he could (which wasn't far, considering it was a single bed) while still being able to see the screen.

Blaine just gave him a humorous look. "Don't look so scared," he said, grinning. "I'm not going to bite you."

Kurt wrinkled his nose indignantly and, as if to prove that he wasn't afraid, kicked off his sneakers and shimmied himself onto his stomach next to Blaine, all the while quite terrified. He tried to wipe his sweaty palms inconspicuously on his jeans as he arranged himself into a comfortable position.

They hadn't talked about the kiss yet. That night, after breaking apart, everyone in the room had cheered and clapped them on the back. Blaine had grinned at Kurt and Kurt had smiled shyly back; spending a few seconds more in their own little post-kiss world. And then Randy had shoved the bottle into Kurt's hand and reminded him that it was his turn to spin, and Kurt was forced into the distracting task of thinking up some ridiculously boring dare for David.

Shortly after, Kurt's dad had sent a text to say he was there to pick him up – Burt was in the neighborhood for car parts anyway, so it made sense for him to get Kurt while he was there. Blaine had walked him to the car, but Stacy had accompanied them to ask Burt for a ride down the road to his girlfriend's house. There hadn't been any time to discuss things with Blaine.

Kurt had spent the whole night afraid that he might have made things awkward between them, but the following day Blaine's texts displayed none of the apparent awkwardness or the uncertainties that Kurt felt. For some reason, this made Kurt feel worse.

Had it really meant nothing to Blaine? From anyone else's perspective it wouldn't have been romantic – a kiss as part of _Truth or Dare_. But Kurt had been sure, _positive,_ that it had been more than 'just a dare' for them. Was he wrong?

Blaine looked at him quickly, too fast for Kurt to see his expression, but he was smiling when he looked back at the computer. Kurt could barely breathe. He had never been this close to Blaine before – not alone, like this. They were elbow to elbow, hip to hip. Kurt could smell the toothpaste on Blaine's breath. He swallowed.

"So, what do you want to watch first?" Blaine asked, bringing up a list of his movies on his hard drive and opening a folder labeled 'Disney'. "I have everything from Snow White to Tarzan. We should save our favorites for last, or we'll be comparing everything else to them. You like Beauty and the Beast, right?"

Kurt nodded, and Blaine moved Beauty and the Beast and the Hunchback of Notre Dame to the bottom of the playlist. "We definitely don't have time to watch them all today. Which ones do you think we should cut?"

They went through the list picking out their favorites and adding them to the playlist. Kurt felt the ice break between them when they started arguing over whether to keep Lady and the Tramp or Bambi – Kurt preferring Bambi. In the end they decided to include both in the list, but shuffle the movies so that the order was a surprise.

"You're computer is most _definitely_ biased," Kurt mumbled as Blaine clicked 'play' and Lady and the Tramp began. Blaine only laughed, and then suddenly and to Kurt's surprise, jumped up off the bed. "I forgot the popcorn," he said. "Or would you prefer chips? Screw it, I'll bring both. It's Sunday!" Kurt had no idea what being Sunday had to do with binge eating, but he felt a little disappointed as Blaine disappeared out the door.

He looked back at the little yapping puppy on the laptop LCD. Was Blaine only interested in him because he was so helpless? Because he was the kind of 'Lady' that would end up getting himself into trouble if he didn't have a 'Tramp' to look after him in this new environment? He decided he would talk to Blaine about the previous night's kiss before the day was over, even if it meant sacrificing watching Beauty and the Beast with him.

* * *

Dave sat in the hospital bed staring at the number on his phone.

"_Text me," _Kurt had said. But Dave hadn't. He couldn't. He felt ashamed. Ashamed that he had spilled everything to Kurt, that Kurt had listened like a gentleman. Ashamed because he didn't deserve this kindness, but because he couldn't say no either; ashamed that he craved it more than he could admit.

"I told my dad," Dave had told Kurt.

"How did he take it?" Kurt had asked quietly.

"Bad," Dave had admitted, and then laughed bitterly. If that wasn't the understatement of the century! "I was a disappointment. He didn't kick me out, but he made it pretty clear that unless I changed I was no longer his son; whether I chose to stay or not was up to me. That was worse than being booted, you know? The ignoring and the silent treatment. Because I couldn't take back what I said. I thought, of all the people I could rely on to still love me, it would be him."

Kurt didn't say anything. He just sat there. But the mask he had sat down with was slowly dissolving, and although Dave couldn't quite work out what it was, there was definitely some emotion there. Dave couldn't work out if Kurt wanted him to keep talking or not, but he did anyway, because for some weird reason it felt so good to finally tell someone - for someone to finally be there to listen.

"I tried talking to the school counselor, that red-headed lady, but she didn't have a clue what I was on about. I don't think she even gets kids, you know? I get why Mr. Schue's into her, but damn, she's nearly got more problems than I do. She just gave me this pamphlet and said I should talk to you or your friends. That Berry girl, Finn's one? Yeah her. She slaps pretty damn hard."

It was something about the fact that he had been ready to give up _everything _that made it easier to talk to Kurt. Because while Dave was kind of grateful to still be alive, he didn't have anything to lose anymore. When he had told Kurt he was awake, and had heard him talking, he threw away the idea of 'regret'. It didn't matter what he did or said anymore – it couldn't get worse than this.

"After I told my dad, I told Azimio. He was pissed, said I'd been lying to him all this time. I thought he'd hit me, but he just gave me the silent treatment like my dad. I always knew he was a homophobe, but I think I think I took that the hardest. And then I overheard him telling the other guys. We got into a fight, and Coach caught us. I hurt Azimio pretty bad, I think I broke his arm or something, and was kicked off the team." Dave's voice wavered a little here. He swallowed the memory.

"Everyone hated me. Your Glee gang, the cheerleaders, the jocks. And the worst part? No one told on me – no one outside the football team knew what I was, that I was g – I was a fag." Dave felt Kurt flinch next to him, but couldn't say the word. "People didn't hate me for _that,_ they just hated _me._

"It was supposed to be a quiet thing," he continued, staring at the opposite wall. "I left a note for Dad and wrote a couple of letters for other people too. For Azimio. For-" Dave chanced a glance at Kurt, "- others. But when I took the sleeping pills, I started to panic. It's like, the moment they were all inside me I started to think about all the things I would miss. Football, even though I wasn't on the team anymore. The grass. The running. Football was _everything_ to me before you came along. Hockey too. And then you. I don't even know why I thought of you. But I knew I had to tell you. I needed you to know everything. I needed to tell you that this was all your fucking fault."

"Karof- _Dave_. You're not going to make me feel guilty for this," Kurt interrupted, but there was obvious hurt in his voice – the way it shook, the way it broke - that made Dave want to take it back - almost. Instead, he shrugged a shoulder.

"Just bein' honest," he said. He knew he needed to get all of this out. Every word. Even if Kurt hated him for it.

"What happened then?" Kurt asked softly. "Did your dad find you?"

"Yeah," said Dave. "I panicked, and ran to the landing, but I couldn't _see_, man, you have no idea. It was like a dream. A really messed up dream. We have these huge stairs, made of stone or something, right? They curve round into the foyer. I just fell, I guess. Dad found me all broken at the bottom and called an ambulance. And here I am.

"And I'm fucked if I know where I'm going now. I might as well just take my crutches to the nearest city bridge tomorrow."

"Don't talk like that!" Kurt was suddenly on his feet – commanding Dave's eyes to his. One of the most attractive things about Kurt Hummel was the _emotion_, Dave thought, the power of every expression he wore and every action he made. People didn't _have_ that much emotion. They _shouldn't_ have that much emotion. And Dave could never understand how Kurt managed to control all that passion when Dave struggled with every little feeling.

If anyone could channel anger, despair and sorrow all at once, it was Kurt.

"There are_ hundreds _of options out there for you, Karofsky," said Kurt with pleading eyes. "Even if it means changing schools and moving. All you have to do is change the way you think about it! Find a dream, or a goal, or anything, and pursue it. Find something, anything to hold on to. Because _that_ – that's not an option. You have a whole life ahead of you."

They looked at each other for what felt like an entire minute before Kurt closed his eyes and breathed slowly out through his nose. Dave didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say. When Kurt opened his eyes again he seemed to have calmed down.

"Are you seeing anyone?" Kurt asked.

"Like, a shrink?" Dave wondered. "My dad just told everyone it was an accident. He doesn't want me to embarrass him anymore."

"That's horrible," said Kurt quietly.

"I guess."

Kurt sighed. "I want you to promise me three things," he said, standing up straighter.

"Why should I promise you anything?" Dave asked tiredly.

"Because you need me right now. You need me more than you need anyone else. And if you promise these things, I can promise to be there for you, to help you through this."

Dave supposed he couldn't really deny it. "What are your conditions?" he asked reluctantly.

"One, you need to start seeing a psychiatrist. Two, you must never hurt me – or try to intimidate me- again. And three, you need to promise me you won't ever try _this_ again." Kurt motioned with his hand down the bed. "Because you might be an oaf, but you don't deserve to – you just don't deserve it. You're not allowed to try and hurt yourself." Poker-faced, Kurt struck out his hand across the bed.

Dave looked at it for a moment, and then looked at Kurt, and then tentatively lifted his good arm and took the outstretched hand.

"Deal," he said softly. He looked Kurt in the eyes, as though he could somehow telepathically communicate his thanks. He only wished that Kurt's face hadn't been so unreadable.

"Mr. Karofsky," said the nurse from the doorway. "Your father's here to see you."

"You should go," Dave said, dropping Kurt's soft fingers reluctantly.

"Yeah," said Kurt, and then he quickly pulled out a scrap of paper from his pocket. "Here's my number," he said before he left. "Text me."

And now, in the present, the day he was being released, Dave still couldn't find the courage to press _send._

* * *

"When I'm out of school, and have a job, and my white picket fence and perfect husband, I want a dog like Lady," Blaine mumbled as the credits rolled.

"I thought you would have been a 'marry a rock star and travel the world' kind of guy?"

Blaine laughed. "Maybe I'll get married loads of times and give each lifestyle a go. What about you?"

Kurt felt his stomach knot. What could he say? 'I'll marry anyone as long as they're just like you' didn't seem appropriate.

"As long as they have a good sense of fashion, I don't care," Kurt compromised.

"Wow, you're not very picky."

"Says the guy who plans on marrying several times over."

"_Well,_" Blaine drew out, leaning back on his elbow to look at Kurt properly. "If I have to be honest, I have a bit of a soft spot for short brown hair, small faces, adorable noses..." Blaine reached out and brushed some of the hair from Kurt's forehead, his smile widening when Kurt blushed. "I think, if I were looking for a boyfriend right now, I'd want him to be porcelain white, with flawless skin and the most unusual, attention grabbing, but surprisingly attractive sense of fashion."

Kurt's heart banged frantically against his ribcage as Blaine continued. "He would have the most incredible canta-tenor voice and the best taste in music. He would be witty and sarcastic and a little bit catty. He would love sushi and playing chess, and would be the only person who could beat me at it. He would be near-fluent in French, and get frustrated whenever I mispronounced something on the menu at that French restaurant he likes. He would have the most ridiculous scarf collection I have ever seen. He would complain every day about how bored he's getting of our school uniform. He would love Disney, but we wouldn't be able to agree on _everything._

"And he would have the most amazing green eyes."

"Glasz," said Kurt breathlessly. When Blaine just blinked at him stupidly, Kurt cleared his throat and expanded, "My eyes," he said. "They're Glasz – the color, I mean. It's a French word for blue, green and-"

"Hey, Kurt," Blaine interrupted casually.

"Yes?"

"Truth or Dare?"

Kurt swallowed. Was this a trick question?

"Dare?" he suggested weakly.

"Kiss me."

It was like a dream come true. All his paranoia over the Truth and Dare kiss, all his anxiety over his and Karofsky's conversation the previous day, were washed away in that moment. He knew he was blushing; somehow it was harder to lean in and close the distance between them than it had been with the Warblers around them on Friday, but somehow, when he did find the courage, it was even more magical than the first time.

This time, Blaine pulled him into his body; he fit perfectly. Blaine slipped an arm around behind him and held him, and there was something so comforting about the strength of it, as though Blaine had no intention of ever letting go. It was more tender than the Truth or Dare kiss, almost playful. Blaine smiled against Kurt's lips, nipping them, and then kissed both cheeks and laughed.

"Blaine?" Kurt asked slowly, their lips still pressed together.

"Mmmm?"

"What would you have asked if I had said Truth?"

"Will you be my boyfriend?"

Kurt felt winded. He took a moment, and swallowed. He didn't want to sound too excited. "I'm going to answer this anyway, even though it's not my turn," he said. Kurt could feel Blaine's grin against his lips in reply.

"Yes," Kurt whispered. Then taking both himself and Blaine by surprise, Kurt kissed him hard, wrapping his arms as tightly around Blaine as he possibly could. Blaine responded just as willingly, the kiss imitating the same passion and power of their first, and suddenly they were breathless, unable to hold each other tightly enough.

This was what Kurt had been dreaming of all his life. Someone to love; someone who loved _him_. To have a boyfriend and to be able to feel his frantic heart against his chest, to be able to feel the heat from his body.

_This is amazing,_ was Kurt's only thought.

"This is awkward."

Everything froze. Then after a beat, Blaine carefully untangled himself from Kurt and groaned.

Wes stood in the doorway, grinning broadly. "I, er, forgot my phone. I'll just grab it and leave then?"

Blaine buried his face in duvet. "Fuuuuck you," he mumbled . "Kurt, throw something at him?"

"Throw something?" Kurt repeated weakly. He knew he was redder than he could ever remember being. He couldn't even look at Wes. But Blaine's suggestion didn't actually seem like such a bad idea.

"Yeah, like a pillow," said Blaine, looking back up. Instead, he reached over Kurt and grabbed the empty popcorn box, but it only bounced off of Wes' shoulder as he reached into his bedside drawer for his phone.

"I'm leaving, I'm leaving!" Wes' exclaimed, straightening up and holding up his hands (the phone in his left) in surrender. He then winked at Kurt. "You guys can just pretend I was never here."

But of course, they couldn't. They were silent for a minute after Wes left, and than Blaine said, somewhat awkwardly, "Let's watch Beauty and the Beast."

Watching the movie, Kurt found he wasn't actually as disappointed as he thought he would be. Kissing Blaine was exhilarating, but also frightening. Kurt smiled as Blaine slid his fingers into his.

They would take this slowly. There wasn't any rush.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Sorry, I still have some chapter 1 reviews to reply to! You guys are amazing. I can't express my love for you enough. Thank you so much for the reviews!

To all you Alert and Runs, I'm still expecting reviews from you :p. I know most of you are writers yourselves, so you know how disappointing it is to get tonnes of emails for alerts and very few for reviews. Even a one liner could make my day - even if you're telling me how much you hate it! Seriously, I have no life. Every review makes me jump in my seat and grin like a nut. So please, leave a review and let me know that my readers actually exist, and aren't just numbers piling up in my story stats c:

I might not get the next chapter out so quickly - It's exam time! On the plus side, this means it's nearly the Christmas holidays, the end of school, the start of a new era. I start my Bachelor of Computer Graphic Design next year! Yep, I'm excited! :D

**Review prompt:** What do you think of the Kurtofsky ship (in general), and why?


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** Sorry it's been so long! For anyone who has forgotten, here is a quick summary of what has happened so far. _  
_

Karofsky is in hospital after a suicide attempt and Kurt, with Blaine, goes to visit one day after school. Kurt told the seemingly sleeping Karofsky that he doesn't feel guilty, but that he is there because he feels he needs to understand why Karofsky acted the way he did - Karofsky didn't respond. That Friday night Kurt attended the Warblers' weekly game of Truth or Dare that they held in the common room for all the unlucky singers without dates that evening. When Kurt finally picks Dare, the Warblers dare him to do something they've been dying to see since Kurt transferred. Kurt kisses Blaine, but when he returns to his own home for the weekend he starts to worry that the kiss hadn't done for Blaine what it had for him. Kurt visits the hospital again, and this time speaks to Karofsky, offering, somewhat reluctantly, to help him get through it. That Sunday, during a slightly awkward movie night with Blaine, Blaine admits how much he likes Kurt and asked him to be his boyfriend. Kurt, thrilled, said yes, but their celebratory kiss was interrupted by Wes, and they were left to finish watching their movie in awkward silence.

* * *

"David Karofsky," Kurt repeated, furrowing his brow.

The receptionist pushed her glasses up her nose and shook her head at the computer. "I'm sorry," she said, "but it looks like he checked out earlier this evening."

"And you're sure?"

The reception sighed. "I've checked twice now."

"I see," said Kurt, confused. "Thank you."

He pulled his phone out of his pocket as he left the hospital – There were no new texts from unknown numbers. For some reason it made him angry. He would have appreciated a 'Thank you' or a 'Sorry'. Not that he would have accepted them - Dave still owed him a lot, and there was no way he was going to forgive him just like that, if at all - but Kurt thought it would have been nice to know his visit had been worthwhile.

In hindsight, he should have asked for Dave's number instead.

"What was that about?" Burt asked as Kurt got into the car.

"Nothing," Kurt sighed, loosening his scarf and putting on his seatbelt.

"Is your friend okay?"

"It was just a _tonsillectomy_, Dad. He actually got discharged this afternoon. He's probably at home doing his French homework or something. I'll text him."

Burt breathed out heavily. "When you said you needed a ride to visit a friend in hospital, I got a bit worried, but that's not so bad. I hope it's not anyone from your singing club, though. Doesn't getting your tonsils out change your voice or something?"

"It can do, but don't worry, he doesn't sing."

Kurt put his phone on the dashboard and looked out the window at the darkening sky. Whatever, he thought. Karfosky can look after himself. Kurt had bigger things to worry about – like how he was going to break the 'boyfriend' news to his dad.

Kurt jumped as his phone beeped. It wasn't from Dave, but it left him smiling all the way home.

_Ur my teenage dream_

_

* * *

_

The moment Kurt walked into Breadstix he was tackled straight back into the door by Mercedes.

"Boy, where were you on Saturday?" she exclaimed into his ear. Kurt couldn't see past her head, but he could hear everyone laughing, and was grinning when Mercedes pulled away. The sight before him took his breath away.

"You only saw him sometime _last week_," Rachel was saying. "Let the rest of us get a look at him." To the mild annoyance of the Breadstix waiting staff, New Directions were standing by the reception, a crowd by themselves and receiving curious glances from the few customers Breadstix had that evening (It was 5:30pm and a Wednesday). Kurt had almost forgotten what an unusual assemble they were.

Everyone was smiling – Rachel, Tina and, weirdly, Brittany, all came to give Kurt a hug at once, before someone shouted "Group hug!" and he was comfortably sandwiched in the biggest, warmest hug he could ever remember.

He hadn't seen New Directions since sectionals – not all together, like this. He was surprised by all the little changes that he wouldn't have noticed if he had still been at school with them – who had gotten a inch or two cut off their hair, who had stopped biting their nails, who had switched perfume. Artie's wheelchair had new wheel lights; Tina had started parting her hair to the right instead of the left; Rachel was wearing a new pair of shoes.

"I can't believe he's tearing up," said Santana, picking flint off her shoulder as everyone pulled away. "It's only been-"

"Two and a half months," said Kurt defensively. "And it's the heat."

"I made them to turn it up," said Brittany. "I'll go tell them to turn it down again."

"We should sit you down." Mercedes grabbed Kurt's wrist and pulled him towards the one of the bigger tables. Everyone else followed – everyone started talking at once.

"Since you left, our costumes look like crap," said Santana flatly.

"_No one _has your range-"

"Mike and Schue are great at choreography, but sometimes-"

"I swear you've grown, dude-"

"I didn't realize how much you kept Rachel in check until you left-"

"We've really missed you," said Mercedes warmly as they all sat down. "_Everyone,_ even though some of them are trying not to show it." Here she looked pointedly at Puck, who just shrugged.

"Sam and Mr. Schue are coming later," Finn said loudly over everyone as they sat down. "Sam has to go to his nan's birthday or something, and Mr. Schue said he'd meet us here for desert to give us some time with you."

"He's paying, though," said Santana. "So we have to eat a lot."

"He's paying even though he's not eating with us?" asked Kurt, awestruck by the generosity.

"He likes you a lot."

"I invited Blaine too," said Mercedes as the waiter brought them jugs of water and handed around menus. "Didn't he come with you?"

Kurt suddenly felt a tickle of excitement run through him, but he didn't want to break the news until Blaine got there. "He should be here soon," he said, smiling. "He gives his cousin guitar lessons after school on Wednesdays, so said he'd be running late."

Kurt wondered momentarily if he should have told Mercedes about him and Blaine first, but he hadn't had a chance to ask to meet up with her in the last couple of days, and he hadn't wanted to tell her over the phone.

"So," said Puck, leaning over to pour himself a drink. "What's Dalton like? Any hot teachers? _Female_, I mean."

"The lessons," said Kurt, "are a _lot _harder."

Everyone listened as Kurt told them about the halls and the dorms and the homework, and listed all the unusual rules that Dalton had and McKinley didn't. And even when the food arrived, they had more questions, and Kurt told them about the cafeteria food and described the size of the library and the enormous auditorium. And then he mentioned the Warblers' Friday night Truth or Dare games.

"We should do that!" Rachel exclaimed."We don't do anything as a group outside school. It would be an _excellent _way to strengthen the group's bond."

"Isn't Truth or Dare like, _so_ 5th grade?"

"Wouldn't the Warblers be annoyed at us if we copied them?"

"Oh, wait. We could invite them," said Santana, smirking. "Some of them were really hot."

"I liked the lead singer," said Brittany.

"Thank you," said a voice politely, "but, I'm taken." Everyone on the left side of the table, with their backs to the entrance, jumped - especially Kurt, who knocked over his water, much to his chagrin. Blaine's last two words raised a couple of pairs of eyebrows. Mercedes short Kurt a questioning look, but he shook his head in a noncommittal gesture as he grabbed some napkins and Blaine pulled up a chair next to him.

"Thanks for coming," Kurt said quietly as Blaine sat down.

"_Kurt_," said Santana, coating her voice in honey and leaning over the table towards them, "Aren't you going to introduce us?" Apparently, whether someone was already in a relationship or not was irrelevant to Santana, but Kurt was in too much of a good mood to let it bug him. Blaine's hand found his under the table and squeezed.

Kurt's heart was hammering pleasantly beneath his chest as he took a deep breath and announced, "Everyone, this is Blaine, lead singer of the Warblers-"

"Who we totally owned at sectionals," Puck interrupted.

"Don't be rude," Quinn muttered, but Blaine only laughed.

"You guys were pretty amazing," he admitted.

"Of course," said Rachel smoothly, and then smiled almost unusually at Kurt. "But we would have had a harder time if you had given Kurt a solo." Kurt gave Rachel an amused look, which she returned with a satisfied one. He wasn't entirely sure what to make of this.

"So," said Santana, looking between Kurt and Blaine. "Have you guys done it yet?"

"Wait," said Rachel, looking at Kurt. "Last time we talked you said-"

"Don't worry," said Mercedes, "they're not dating. They're just friends. Right, Kurt?"

The silence that followed wasn't exactly awkward, but it was telling - Kurt glanced at Blaine and Blaine smiled down at his menu.

"Oh, my, God," said Rachel.

"What?" said Mercedes. "Kurt?"

Someone let out a whistle, everyone exchanged glances, but no one else said anything. They were all waiting for Kurt to confirm it.

"What I was about to say, before _Puck interrupted me_," Kurt stressed. He took a breath before continuing. "This is Blaine, member of the Warblers and -" here Kurt paused for dramatic effect, "-my boyfriend."

The table erupted - with congratulations, wolf whistles, and a drowned out "wait, what?" from Puck and a "I didn't even know Blaine was gay," from Artie. Only Finn and Mercedes looked put out, apparently unimpressed that Kurt hadn't told them sooner.

"My question still stands."

"That would be hot."

"_So_," said Rachel as everyone ignored Santana and Brittany, "how did this less-than-shocking development happen?"

"Who asked who?" Mercedes added with narrowed eyes.

Blaine glanced at Kurt before answering.

"Well," he said, "Kurt was actually the one to initiate it." Encouraged by their expressions of disbelief, and Kurt's elbow to his ribs, he added with a grin, "Late one evening, last Friday, actually, I think it was a full moon – not that we were outside, but – anyway, it was late, the moon was full, and Kurt crawled into my lap and put his hand in my hair and told me I was blind for not seeing how he felt, and then he kissed me. It was all very romantic, and passionate, and dramatic. Kurt is an _amazing_ kisser, and then – Kurt, stop _elbowing me_!" Blaine finished with a whine.

"Okay, okay, we were playing Truth or Dare and he was dared to kiss me," he adjusted quickly, rolling his eyes. "But that doesn't make any of the rest less true."

Everyone "aww'd" appropriately and laughed and told them how cute they were. Kurt's face was burning, and he had sunk as low into his chair as he possibly could, but Blaine's bragging and the approval on everyone's faces made him feel secretly amazing. New Directions had met Blaine briefly after sectionals, but most of them probably hadn't know him well enough to even remember his first name. But they were already treating him as though he were part of the group, trusting him because Kurt trusted him. Kurt smiled.

"And then I asked him out and now we're living happily ever after," Blaine concluded, grinning.

"I'm never bringing you out on a date again," Kurt moaned teasingly. "I hope you don't tell the same story to my dad."

"I'll start drafting something more exciting," Blaine promised.

"Oh god," said Kurt as everyone laughed.

The rest of the dinner passed more casually. People turned to their own conversations, giving Kurt a chance to eavesdrop on what everyone was doing at the moment - who was dating who, what songs New Directions were considering for regionals, which teachers had quit or been fired - even what Sue was up to. Kurt couldn't believe how warm everyone was treating him; it made him happy, but also a little jealous and more than a little homesick. He loved the Warblers, but they weren't _his _Glee club. Despite what Randy said, Kurt still felt like the new guy, like the outsider, like a _McKinley_ student.

But no one seemed too worried about this – they happily bragged about how they were going to win regionals, about how much fun they were having. As the dinner progressed and people were finishing their plates (Santana was on her second), the warm, happy feeling Kurt had started the evening with was starting to ebb.

He looked at Blaine, who was deep in discussion with Puck about a recent sci-fi-action movie, and realized that if it wasn't for Blaine, he would probably go straight home and beg his dad to let him transfer back to McKinley.

He sighed as he picked at his pasta. Maybe this dinner hadn't been such a great idea after all.

* * *

Sam stood outside Breadstix, stepping back and fourth to warm himself up. If he had _known_ he was going to spend the evening loitering outside the diner instead of sharing spaghetti with Quinn he would have brought a jacket. He scowled at the entrance as he tried to make up his mind; go home, or grow some and go in. Neither option seemed particularly tempting.

"Sam?"

"Mr. Schue. You made me jump."

Mr. Schuester stood on the pavement in a button up shirt and jeans, looking unusually casual without a tie.

"What are you doing out here? Isn't anyone here yet?" He cast a confused glance at his watch.

"No, everyone's here," said Sam. "Look, can I ask you a favor?"

"That depends on what it is," said Mr. Schuester slowly. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine." Sam looked back at the door and then made his decision and took a deep breath. "It's just, I can't go inside. It's a long story, and it's personal, but you'd understand if you knew. I don't want to mess things up for them."

"Whatever it is, Sam, they're your friends-"

"You don't understand," Sam said quickly. "It's not a matter of being _their_ friends-" He hesitated, wondering how to word it.

Mr. Schuester sighed. "You texted me half an hour ago to say you were at home with a headache and won't be coming," he supplied reluctantly. "You should talk to your friends though."

Sam breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Mr. Schue."

"You owe me."

* * *

"It was good seeing you again," Rachel admitted as she hugged Kurt in the parking lot outside the diner, half an hour later. Rachel, Santana and Brittany were getting a ride home with Mr Schuester because their houses were on the way; Mr Schuester was leaning against his car as they said their goodbyes. Lauren had left as soon as she had finished her desert; Mike, Artie and Tina had just left in Mike's car; Puck was loitering, probably wondering if he should say goodbye or just leave; Quinn had come with Mercedes, but both were hanging around too; and Kurt was going to drop off Finn (who had come with Puck), and was already waiting in Kurt's car. Blaine was standing apart from everyone, texting, tweeting or playing a game on his phone, Kurt wasn't entirely sure.

"Thanks for dinner, Mr. Schue."

"No problem, Kurt." Mr. Schuester smiled. "I owed you for helping me pick that Secret Santa gift. I'm glad you had a good Christmas."

"Thanks, you too."

They stood around for a moment in silence before Rachel said, "I guess we should go."

"Yeah," said Kurt. "But I'll see you all next Wednesday."

Rachel grinned, and even Santana smiled a little.

"Next Wednesday?" asked Mr. Schuester.

"We'll be meeting at the Hummel's for Truth or Dare," said Santana wickedly. "You're welcome to join us, Mr. Schue."

Mr. Schuester laughed uneasily. "I'll think I'll pass. But thanks for the offer, Santana."

Kurt waved as Mr. Schuester and the girls drove away, feeling elated. Sure, he wasn't a part of McKinley Glee Club anymore, but if he could still meet with them like this once a week, that would be enough. Then he thought back to the stack of Advanced Calculus homework he had due in the following day with a cringe. He would just have to learn to juggle his homework a little better.

Puck left after the girls, with an awkward pat-on-the back hug for Kurt and a "If anyone gives you shit at this new school, just let me know. No one messes with any of my boys" line that made Quinn smile. It wasn't until Puck was gone that Kurt noticed Mercede's expression.

Blaine noticed it too.

"I should probably go," he said, pocketing his phone. "We've still got that calculus homework to do. See you back at the dorms?"

"Yeah," said Kurt, flashing a grateful smile. "See you soon."

They watched as Blaine walked away, across the lot to his car.

"I'm sorry Sam couldn't come," Quinn said as they waved him off. "I can't believe he didn't text me. But then, he's never really been huge on the whole texting thing."

"Really?" said Kurt, a little surprised. "Because he texted me all the time when we were planning our duet. Half of the messages were _illegible_ – I've never known _anyone_ to use such appalling text language, including Finn – but he definitely seemed to try and make up for the quality with quantity." Kurt paused, aware that that might not have been what Quinn wanted to hear. "Maybe he's just too embarrassed to show you his poor spelling," he amended.

"Maybe." Quinn smiled.

"Kurt," Mercedes interrupted, unable to hold her tongue any longer. "We need to talk."

Quinn looked surprised at the coolness of Mercedes' tone, but stood back and nodded. "I'll go wait in the car," she offered. "You're looking good, Kurt. I'm happy for you."

"Thanks, Quinn."

Mercedes sighed as soon as Quinn was out of earshot, and Kurt could almost hear the unspoken 'finally alone'. He swallowed. He had a feeling this was going to be about Blaine.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Mercedes accused, sure enough. "I'm your _best friend_, Kurt."

"Mercedes, I didn't have a _chance."_

"It's been six days," said Mercedes flatly, crossing her arms. "You could have _called_. And boy, you didn't even text me."

"Four days," Kurt adjusted. "We only officially started dating on Sund-"

"I really don't care, Kurt. I just thought you might have told me. I just thought I was the person you could trust with anything, the person you called first when something exciting happened. I thought I was your best friend. But I guess you have new ones, now."

Kurt sighed. "We'll always be friends."

"I need _more_ than that, Kurt. Since you left, I don't have _anyone_ in Glee club who gets me anymore."

"_Oh,_ because I had a choice," said Kurt, suddenly feeling snarky. He found himself crossing his arms to mirror Mercedes. "Because I left McKinley _just to get into Blaine's pants._"

"I know you didn't," said Mercedes, looking a little guilty. "But we could still be friends outside of school."

"We _are _still friends," Kurt stressed. "But we live too far away. We can't go shopping together after school anymore, or just hang out before school and help each other pick out outfits. We can't have what we used to! Besides, you can't say you don't have anyone – I saw you and Quinn talking at dinner. The two of you get along just fine."

"She has Brittany and Santana. You _know _I'll never fit in with them." Mercedes stopped and frowned at Kurt. "And I guess now you have your _prep school boys,_ who I'll never fit in with either." She raised an eyebrow for a second, and when Kurt didn't say anything, sighed and turned away.

"Mercedes!" Kurt called, but she ignored him, slamming her door as she got in the car. Only Quinn leaned out the window and waved as they drove away.

Kurt felt winded. What could he have said? He couldn't invite Mercedes to hang out with the Warblers – not when she was on the 'enemy team'. And none of the Warblers were allowed to invite their girlfriends to practice or Truth or Dare games anyway, so why would Kurt be allowed Mercedes? Kurt barely had enough time for Glee club practice and homework, let alone the Friday Truth or Dare games and Blaine. Now that he had agreed to weekly Wednesday Truth or Dare with New Directions as well, there was no way he would be able to schedule in date time with Mercedes. Not if he wanted to pass this high school year, anyway.

He kicked the wheel of his car in frustration.

"Dude," said Finn as soon as Kurt opened the driver's seat door. He had the same accusing tone as Mercedes.

"I don't want to hear it," said Kurt flatly.

"No, I'm serious, Kurt. We're your _family_. Every time we see you, you've been denying that there's anything going on between you and that Blaine guy. Don't you think we should have been the first to know?"

"To be blunt, no," said Kurt as he turned on the ignition. "I don't. I think I'm just as entitled as anyone else to keep secrets. This was just the most convenient time to tell _everyone. _I really don't think it's as big a deal as you guys are making it out to be."

"Not a big deal? It's your first boyfriend, and you tell _Lauren Zizes _before you even tell your dad?"

Kurt swallowed. "I'll tell him soon," he said.

"How soon is soon?"

"Soon," Kurt snapped.

They drove the rest of the way to the new Hummel house in silence. Finn muttered an almost sarcastic "Thanks for the ride" as he got out, and Kurt spent the remainder of the journey back to Dalton listening to Finn's Linkin Park CD and praying to Gaga that Finn wouldn't let slip the news to Burt before Kurt could decide on the most tactful way to do it.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Sorry it's such a clumsy chapter! More will happen in the next one, I promise.  
I've decided not to reply to every review I get - I keep forgetting who I've replied to and accidentally replying to people twice, and I feel like some of my replies are getting a little repetitive. But I really do appreciate every single review, more than you know! I love getting to know my readers, and visit every reviewer's page. I can't promise to read and review something of everyone's, but I will check to see if you have any stories that catch my eye.

Thanks again for reading! I'll try and get the next chapter up before Christmas. But just in case I don't manage it, have a very Merry Christmas! I hope everyone is enjoying their holidays c:


	4. Chapter 4

**AN:**  
It's been too long since I last updated. You people must hate me! Here's a quick summary of what has happened so far, for those of you who have forgotten:

Dave Karofsky attempted suicide shortly after Kurt left McKinley, and Kurt went to visit him in hospital. Kurt promised Dave friendship in exchange for three things: Dave seeing a psychiatrist, keeping his temper in check, and not trying to hurt himself again. Later, during a game of Truth or Dare, Kurt was dared to kiss Blaine - which lead to Blaine asking Kurt to be his boyfriend at a Disney movie marathon. Meanwhile, Dave was discharged from the hospital and Kurt has been unable to contact him. Kurt also introduced Blaine to New Directions as his boyfriend, and everyone was happy for him except Finn and Mercedes. Sam has been acting unusual, not wanting to go to dinner with New Directions after seeing Blaine there with Kurt.

* * *

Dave's room had been _trashed_. Every single item of Kurt's had been taken away – the plaid scarf, the broken Gaga badge, the hall pass - only the wedding topper remained, smashed into a million pieces by a boot in the doorway. Dave had been expecting this, but it was still a blow. He was surprised, however, that he felt more upset that his father knew the magnitude of the problem than about the loss of things relating to Kurt. He felt an unusual but comfortable _emptiness_ at the thought of no longer owning a picture of Kurt to stare at, at the idea that he would never press that disgusting puke green scarf to his face again, at knowing that he could never go to his closet and accidentally mistake Kurt's football jersey for his own.

He could never have gotten rid of these things by himself, but now that they were gone he felt a little lighter - angry, but still strangely relieved. Maybe it was more than just the absence of proof of his stalker-ish tendencies; maybe it had something to do with the way Kurt had smiled at him, just fleetingly, as he gave Dave his number; maybe it had something to do with Kurt's outstretched hand and sincere offer of help – of _friendship; _maybe it was the thought that one day he might not need to steal pictures from the black girl's locker to see Kurt smile again. Dave didn't know, and he really didn't want to think about it - he was just surprisingly glad they were gone.

What really pissed him off was the empty envelope on the floor.

"You read it," he said flatly, turning to face his father in the doorway.

"Kurt Hummel, who is he?" Mr. Karofsky asked calmly. "The name sounds familiar-"

"It was addressed to him, _it was sealed_, and you-"

"David, I don't have time for your antics. I want to know where this boy lives. You addressed the letter to his school, but they wouldn't give me any information. I just want to have a word with his parents, that's all."

"Like hell that's all," Dave spat.

"Don't be immature," said Mr. Karofsky. "You have a problem, and we need to fix it. If this boy has the same problem, which I assume from the content of this – _letter_ – you wrote him, then maybe his parents can give us some advice on how to treat it."

"You can't cure being gay, dad."

"I can try," said Mr. Karofsky with a sour expression. "I've booked you in to see a psychiatrist twice a week, starting next Wednesday, and I've ordered some reading material you might find interesting. You'll be doing school through correspondence from now on."

"What? Is that like home school? For how long? Until my leg heals?"

"Until I see fit." Mr. Karofsky turned and left, shutting the door quietly behind him. Dave slumped onto his bed, dropping the crutches to his side, and put his head in his hands as the realization sunk in. He was going to be alone, with no company but for, knowing his father, a probably hand-picked and very homophobic psychiatrist, until his father decided he was 'straight' enough to be his son again.

He didn't have football or hockey, he didn't have Azimio or Ethan or Strando or any of his old friends, he didn't have school or internet access. He didn't even have a _father_. Why was he still alive? What was the point?

But he had _Kurt, _he thought, winding his fingers around the phone inside the pocket of his hoody. He had Kurt's promise. And maybe, maybe that was enough.

* * *

"What are you most afraid of?" Blaine asked that evening over calculus. He leaned over the sheets of homework between them and picked up Kurt's graphics calculator – he had left his own in his room – and pushed his glasses up nose. He knew they were going to be exhausted by the time they finished the school work, so they had both gotten ready for bed before they started, which for Blaine included taking out his contacts.

"I don't know," Kurt admitted with a sigh. "But I'm sure the idea will make him uncomfortable. Maybe he won't like that the guy I'm seeing sleeps two doors down from me, or that I see more of you than I do him... in his head, the fact that we board here together, eat together, spend most of our free time together - he might see it like us_ living together. _And_ no parent _wants that for their kid in high school, especially when they're only in their first proper relationship. It's not like we're at a unisex boarding school, where we'd be in completely different wings.

"Oh Gaga," he said, going pale as he realized. "it_ is_ like we're living together, isn't it?"

"Hmm," Blaine considered, setting down the calculator. "We don't actually see an awful lot of each other. We hardly have any classes together."

"We _do_ have Glee, though, and he knows about our Friday nights..." Kurt hesitated. "I'm also worried he'll think I only wanted to move here because of you."

"He wouldn't," Blaine assured him immediately. "He knows how terrified Karofsky made you, and how potentially dangerous it was for you at KcKinley. There's no way he'd think that."

"But Karofsky isn't there anymore," Kurt said bitterly. "What if he wants me to go back?"

"I'd hate that," said Blaine softly.

"Me too," said Kurt, although he wasn't entirely sure he meant it.

"But," said Blaine, offering a small smile, "I don't think he will. They've paid for you to be here, and the school won't refund that. We have the best facilities, the best resources, the best teachers – Dalton has the best reputation of any other school in the region. It wouldn't make any sense for them to send you back to McKinley now."

"Yeah," said Kurt halfheartedly.

"But even if you do have to transfer again, it won't change anything between us," Blaine promised.

Kurt raised an unconvinced eyebrow. "We'd see each other a couple of hours a week, at the _very_most."

"That's not true. I have a smaller workload than you do, and you would have way less homework at McKinley."

"We'd be keeping a lot of secrets from each other. Our social lives revolve around Glee."

Blaine hesitated, and then said, "It'd just make things more exciting."

Kurt laughed. "You'd have to watch me go to Nationals without you."

"Oh," said Blaine grinning, "you're so sure of that?"

"With me in New Directions, the Warblers don't stand a chance," Kurt teased, ducking quickly as Blaine's eraser soared over his head.

"You have a point," said Blaine, furrowing his eyebrows in mock seriousness. "Looks like I'm really going to have to try and win your dad over."

Kurt laughed lightly. "I have no doubt he likes you," he said, "It's just a question of how much he still likes you when he finds out we're dating. I know he wants me to be happy, but..." The laughter left his face as he trailed off, his teeth finding his lips and gnawing nervously.

Blaine immediately snapped shut their workbooks and squeezed Kurt's shoulder. "What're we doing calculus for?" he asked, grinning. "We should be drafting our plan of action! Go and grab an A3 sheet of paper."

Kurt cast the most incredulous expression he could muster.

"What?" said Blaine, "I have a new set of sharpies. And plans are _always _better drafted in rainbow."

Over the next hour they didn't really get much of anything done. The huge piece of paper ended up covered in doodles and comical, highly unrealistic cartoon scenarios in which stick figure Blaines and Kurts were chased around by Stick-Burts carrying surprisingly well drawn shotguns.

When Kurt was around Blaine, everything seemed easy. Blaine had some way of making Kurt feel completely comfortable with, and entirely optimistic about, everything. No matter what his dad said, Kurt knew he couldn't go back to MkKinley, and that he could never, ever give up Blaine.

He smiled as he curled up in bed that night, the 'Klaine VS Burt' plan tacked to the wall above his bed, and didn't think about Mercedez' or Finn's annoyance with him, or stress over Burt's potentially disastrous reaction, or worry about his dropping grades in Physics or the Warbler's could-be-better song choices for Regionals. Instead he thought of Blaine, recalling his sheepish smile as they stood outside his door minutes previously ("Your dad doesn't _actually _own a gun, right?" Blaine had asked, much to Kurt's amusement), and clinging to the idea that as long as he had Blaine, he would be happy.

* * *

"Dad, there's something I need to tell you. You know Blaine?" Kurt closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "He's my boyfriend now."

When he opened his eyes again he was staring at his own reflection in the mirror. His lips were pinched and his eyebrows furrowed. He swallowed and tried again.

"Dad, I know you really like Blaine. He's polite and helpful and likes to watch football with you. Well, guess what? You might be seeing him more often, because we're dating now. Surprise!"

Kurt sunk to his knees, letting his head sink to cool wood of his dressing table and started humming Born This Way to help calm him down. This was going to be a disaster.

"Er, are you okay?"

Kurt's head shot back up and towards the doorway, where Finn stood in his letterman jacket watching him blankly. It seemed impossible for Finn to hold a grudge, but after their argument in the car on Wednesday evening he seemed unsure how to treat Kurt, and had settled for some kind of stiff, awkward politeness.

"Finn, I told you to knock first. And yes, I'm fine, just suffering from pre-traumatic stress."

"I don't know what that is," Finn admitted, "but do you want me to go get Burt?"

"No, it's fine." Kurt sighed. "But thank you for your concern."

"Oh, okay. Well, uh, dinner's ready," Finn said, turning to leave.

"Thanks. I'll be up in a second."

Another deep breath, another Gaga chorus. Kurt stared at himself hard in the mirror, trying to look determined. "Okay," he whispered to himself. "I'll tell him."

_At least I'll have Finn on my side,_he thought wryly.

* * *

"Uh, dad, what's this?" Kurt asked as he sat down at the dinner table.

"Fish pie. Carole made it," said Burt, nodding approvingly across the table at Carole, who smiled. "I know you used to love it as a kid."

"Dad," Kurt moaned, "you're _gluten intolerant. _You _know _there's gluten in pasty."

Burt sighed. "The doctor said I could come off that diet two weeks ago, but this is actually wheat free – it tastes a little different, but we figured we should use it up. Finn found it when we went to Findlay last month."

"Oh," was all Kurt could think to say._ Another family trip I missed, _he thought, but didn't bring it up.

He cut and scooped a small slice from the platter, raising disapproving eyebrows at Finn who had leaned across Kurt's plate to grab the salt. "It smells really good, Carole," he said honestly as Finn sat back down. There was four times as much on Finn's plate as there was Kurt's.

"Thank you," said Carole sweetly. "It's really nice to have you here on a Friday. Don't you usually do something with your Dalton friends tonight?"

"Yes, the Warblers like to get together on Fridays to hang out and forget about Regionals. It stops us from tearing at each other's throats during practice."

"That's right," said Burt, "Finn was saying how New Directions were taking a leaf out of your, er, book. Does that mean you'll be in the area more often?"

Kurt nodded. "Every Wednesday, possibly every second Wednesday depending on my workload."

"That'll be nice," said Carole. "We really haven't been able to see as much of you as we'd like recently." Kurt glanced at her quickly, but her expression was anything but accusing. He smiled back at her.

"Well, I heard Karofsky isn't coming back to school,"said Finn pointedly. "Maybe you should come back to KcKinley." Kurt glared at him, but Finn just raised his eyebrows and went back to his dinner.

"I know how badly New Directions is missing my talent," Kurt said after a beat, "with good reason, but I couldn't possibly transfer _again_ this year. It would be a waste of mon – wait, why isn't Karofsky going back? Isn't he out of hospital now?"

Finn looked back at him questioningly. "How'd you-"

"Sorry to interrupt," said Burt, cutting over Finn, "but I thought you'd love to return to McKinley." He furrowed his eyebrows. "When you first moved you were telling us how much you missed it."

"Don't worry about the money, Kurt," said Carole quickly. "We just want you to be happy. You seem awfully stifled there."

"It's _challenging_," Kurt stressed, a little irritated at Burt's interruption. "I feel as though I'm actually _learning_ when I'm at Dalton."

"Even when you're here you spend half the time inside your textbooks. Even _you_ don't like studying that much," said Finn flatly.

"It's grown on me," said Kurt through his teeth.

"I think it's more than the studying that's grown on you."

Kurt knew what Finn was trying to do, and knew Finn thought he was doing the right thing, but Kurt wanted to do it on his own terms, not be forced into it by Finn's inappropriate hints - especially not when his mind was reeling with questions about Dave. '

But he couldn't really put it off any longer. He put his knife and fork down.

And that was when the phone rang.

"I'll get that," said Burt. "It's probably Ross about his car... he rang earlier and left a message." He got up, obviously keen to leave the tension between Finn and Kurt, and went into the hallway. Kurt continued to glare at Finn across the table, who pointedly ignored Kurt and went back to his food.

They could hear Burt's side of the conversation clearly through the open door.

"Hi," said Burt as he picked up the receiver, and then after a pause, "Yeah, that's me." He sounded hesitant, as though he didn't recognize the voice on the other end. Kurt ran his fork through the gravy and fish spilling out the side of his pie, absently mixing it into his mashed potatoe.

"Oh," Burt said, his voice unusually clipped. "Yeah. I remember."

…

"Yeah, he's here right now."

…

"Mmm."

Kurt stopped playing with his food, curious about the conversation. Was Burt talking about him or Finn? What reason could anyone have to ask about either of them?

"Finn told me about that a few days ago... I'm really glad he's okay. Sounded like a nasty fall... But he's not returning to McKinley?"

Kurt's stomach suddenly lurched as he guessed who he was talking to, and he froze, staring at his cabbage.

"Yeah."

…

"Huh."

…

"What?" Burt took a sharp intake of breath. "What are you saying?"

The next stretch of silence seemed to go on forever. Even Carole and Finn stopped eating and exchanged bewildered glances across the table. And then Burt shut the door into the dining room, without so much as a 'I could be a while,' and they could hear him walk away down the hall until he was out of earshot.

"Okay, I _really _have to put this out there," said Finn after a few more seconds of silence. "Did it sound to _anyone _else like Burt was on the phone to _Karofsky's dad_?"

If Kurt's mind was reeling before, it was completely out of control now. What could Paul Karofsky _possibly_ want with Burt?

"Maybe his son wants to apologize to you, Kurt," Carole suggested, furrowing her brow. "I suppose falling that badly would really help you to put your life into perspective. _Hopefully _he spent his time in hospital reconsidering the way he lives his life."

"No way would he apologize," said Finn, shaking his head as he turned back to his pie. "He got into another fight just before he left. I wasn't there, but Mike was. Said Karofsky just went nuts and attacked Azimio. He's just been getting more violent, but towards everyone, instead of, you know, Kurt, or Glee. He doesn't seem to care what people think of him. It's no wonder he's got no one to hang out with anymore." He sniffed a laugh. "He was getting slushied more than anyone from Glee for a while." He shoveled some pie into his mouth and Kurt waited impatiently for him to finish.

"Slushied?" Carole asked, but they both ignored her.

"But doesn't he still play Hocky?"

Finn reached for his water glass, giving Kurt a strange look. "Yeah, but so does Azimio," he said as though it were a stupid question. And Kurt supposed it was – of course if Azimio, who was still on the football team, chose to hate Karofsky the rest of the team would too.

"I don't get it," Finn continued, "but after he got kicked off the football team – for the fight, by the way," he directed this at Carole, to try and include her in the conversation, "Mike says it was pretty bad - he sort of shrunk in on himself. I mean, it's like he stopped caring about being popular. He kinda just stopped talking to people. Like he didn't _want _people to like him. The only time we'd hear about him is when he got into fights." He paused as he thought. "Wonder what they actually fought about – you know, in the first place. Mike was never a big talker, but for some reason he just _wouldn't_ talk about it. Just said Karofsky got angry all of a sudden."

"I kind of feel sorry for him," Carole admitted. "It sounds like he has ADHD or something. I hope his family find him some help... It's probably why he's out of school."

Finn shrugged, and without anything else to say, went back to eating in silence.

So, Mike knew Dave was gay and wasn't saying anything. That was interesting, but Kurt shelved the thought for later and waited anxiously for Burt to return. There couldn't be any good reason for Mr. Karofsky's phone call.

It was another five minutes before Burt returned. Carole had just asked Kurt to pass the potato salad, but Burt had come through the door so abruptly that it had made Kurt jump and drop the bowl into what was left of the pie.

"Oh dear," said Carole, "I'll clean it up. Kurt, could you grab me a cloth from the kitchen, please?"

"No," said Burt sternly. "I'd like a word with Kurt."

Kurt looked at him quickly, and then realizing the panic that must be showing on his face, quickly arranged it into his best poker-face and asked, "What about?"

Burt opened his mouth, and then closed it again, and then looked at Carole. "Could I have a word in private with Kurt, please," he said eventually.

"Surely it can wait we've finished eating, Burt. The pie is going cold."  
"Sorry Carole, It's important."

"We shouldn't have to leave," said Finn.

"No," said Kurt. "Finn's right. We're a family now, dad. We don't keep secrets." He sighed. "Whatever you want to talk about, I'm sure they can hear it too." He had no idea what Burt was about to say, but no matter how much of a pain in the arse he could be, Kurt trusted Finn to keep a secret if he had to. And he knew he could trust Carole with anything. Whatever Burt was about to say wasn't worth causing family drama over.

Burt looked him in the eye, but Kurt couldn't read his expression. "Are you sure?" he asked. Kurt only hesitated for a second.

"Positive."

Burt sighed but didn't sit down. He looked out the window, and then at the table, and then, when he appeared to find himself composed, at Kurt.

"Kurt, I need you to be absolutely honest with me," he said at last.

"Of course, dad."

"Have you, or are you now, in a relationship with David Karofsky."

"What?" Finn's reaction was immediate, taking the words right out of Kurt's mouth. He half stood up, staring at Kurt, who hadn't even registered his own gaping mouth, and then back to Burt. "You can't be serious," he said. "Karofsky isn't even _gay._"

"_Dad,_" Kurt choked out, finally finding his voice. His tone was accusatory. If his dad thought he was seeing Dave, he must also think Kurt had lied about the bullying.

"His father is under the impression that there could have been something going on between the two of you." Burt looked at Kurt. "Kurt, I need to know-"

"No," said Kurt firmly, shaking his head. "How can you even think-" he made a small noise in the back of his throat and shook his head. "Never." Burt looked him hard in the eye, as though he wasn't sure whether or not to believe him.

Kurt felt sick.

Finn shook his dead. "Then his dad _really _has no clue," he was saying.

"And you've never made any moves on him," said Burt.

"Never." Kurt ground his teeth together.

"Never been on a date, never hugged, never, er, never kissed?"

Kurt opened his mouth to say no, but no words came out.

"Burt," said Finn, "trust me, this is _crazy, _even for -"

"Yes," Kurt whispered. He heard Finn splutter to his left. He looked back up at Burt. "He kissed me," he said quietly but more confidently.

"Burt, sit down," said Carole, just as quietly.

"He kissed you?"

"Yes," said Kurt, louder this time. "But I pushed him away, I didn't lead him on, or whatever you're asking. Dad, where is this coming from?"

Burt looked at Kurt and ran a hand through what little hair he had. "Was this before or after he started bullying you?" he asked.

"After," said Kurt. "Well, during, I suppose." He rolled his eyes and sighed. "Why did his dad-"

"Why didn't you tell us about it?"

"Because-" Kurt struggled with himself. "It just wasn't my secret to share, okay? If someone's gay they should come out of the closet at their own pace. Rushing them into it could be dangerous."

"He attempted suicide, Kurt."

"I know."

"Wait a minute," said Finn. "I'm really confused. I thought he fell. Are you saying Karofsky tried to kill himself because he's gay? No offense, Burt, but I think you've got your facts wrong. Karofsky is the most homophobic person I know."

"That's why he did it," said Kurt, staring at the table. "He hated himself."

"His dad says it was because he was in love with you."

"This is insane," said Finn under his breath.

"Look," said Kurt, starting to feel angry, "What are you trying to say? What are you trying to accuse me of? It's not my fault he tried to do himself in because I wasn't turned on by death threats and physical abuse."

"Kurt!" said Carole.

"No, Carole, he's right." Burt sighed and, after a beat, pulled out his chair and sat down. "Paul is worried about his son's mental health. He wanted – he wanted me to ask you to keep away from David. I told him of course you had no interest in seeing him after how he treated you. He also asked me for advice on how -"

Kurt cut him off. "_Keep away from him_? He has no right to demand anything."

"Of course he doesn't," Carole soothed. "I'll go and get some some lemonade."

"Of course not, but I can see why he asked, Kurt-"

"He _needs_someone like me right now."

"And you're volunteering?" Finn sounded disgusted.

"I've been to see him," said Kurt confidently. "He is _terrified_of his dad. Cutting him off from the only other gay person Dave knows is the most stupid thing Mr. Karofsky could be doing right now."

Burt was looking at him incredulously. "You can't do that, Kurt."

"You have _no idea_how he's feeling right now!"

"And you do? Do I need to remind you this guy _threatened to kill you_? We have no clue what this kid is thinking!"

"I probably have a better idea than anyone else. I'm the only one who can help him right now."

"I forbid you to see him, Kurt," said Burt with surprising coldness. "He's already mentally unstable, and you leading him on is only going to make things worse."

"Why does everyone assume if two gay guys are friendly they must be 'leading each other on'?" Kurt stood up in frustration and pushed his chair back.

"This situation is different and you know it. Sit back down and finish your dinner."

"I'm going to bed."

"Kurt!"

Kurt was out of breath by the time he made it up to his room. He wasn't entirely sure what exactly had him so worked up – whether it was his dad's implication that he didn't trust Kurt, the restriction on his personal life, or simply the fact that he was being blamed for Karofsky's emotional instability. But something – or rather, _everything_– brought up a torrent of emotion as he flopped down onto his bed. He wasn't sure how long he cried for, or how many different ways he tried to convince himself it wasn't his fault, or when his anger turned into self pity, before he fell asleep. He woke up hours later when he heard Burt come in, to ask if he was okay and to say he was going to bed, but Kurt pretended to still be asleep.

Kurt decided that night that he had to go and see Dave, and that not even Burt or Mr. Karofsky could stop him.

* * *

**AN:** I am awful at updating stories. When I get bored of one, I start another, and then because I stop getting notifications for the old one I forget about it. Not that I'm bored of this one, but some chapters are just less fun to write (like this one). But thank you so much to Bergerac for the reminder to update! I hope you guys like it, and haven't given up on the story. Thank you for reading!

**Review prompt:** What do you think of Season 3 so far?


End file.
